


John comes clean (with Moriaty's help)

by Sophie_Last



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, kidnap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-25
Updated: 2012-10-25
Packaged: 2017-11-17 01:09:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophie_Last/pseuds/Sophie_Last
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John are out of town on a case. Moriarty sent them a video, starring him, about a story that leads them to the town. While they are trying to collect clues several people accuse John of being gay. Sherlock takes note of this but before he can do anything Moriarty steps in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm not gay

John said it for the fourth time that day “I’m not gay.” Sherlock saw the pain that crossed his face when he said this. It was quick and barely decipherable, but it was still there. When John would say “We’re not a couple” The pain wasn’t there; it was only when he would say he wasn’t gay. He briefly wondered why and filed it away to be asked about later. The woman who had accused John of being gay looked at him knowingly.  
“Right.” She walked away leaving John frustrated. Moriarty had sent them a video of him reading a story and Sherlock insisted they come here. They wandered around the small fishing town, looking for any sign of him, and eventually went back to the hotel.  
“Why would Moriarty even be here?” John asked as he sat down on the bed in his room. Sherlock paced the floor in front of him.  
“Use your head John; you have it for a reason. He told us a tale about a woman wasting away to nothing waiting for her sailor to come back and eventually dying. He left us another clue when he said we would be swimming with the ‘fishies’. It’s quite obvious what area of England he meant. It had to be somewhere with tourist interest, but also have a big tie in with fishing. The tourists would have to be here this time of year, so it would have to be for something other than fishing, like the local museum. It holds a specific painting of a scene from that story he read us and is having a special unveiling tomorrow. He must be after whatever is being unveiled.” Sherlock mused half to himself. John sighed knowing he would never know how his friend knew all this.  
“We have to go to that unveiling. I know he will be there, gloating.” Sherlock dragged his hand through his hair. “Do you have my cigarettes?” he asked casually.  
“You quit last week remember?” Sherlock let out a disappointed oh and left for his room.  
The next morning John woke up to someone knocking at his door. He looked at his clock and it read twenty past four.  
“What are you doing waking me at this hour Sherlock?” He yelled through the door as he got up from his bed. When he opened the door he saw a darkened shadow that was definitely not Sherlock fill the frame.  
“Wha-” John was cut off as the man shoved a rag into his mouth. He smelled chloroform on the rag and soon fell backwards knocking his head on the ground.  
Sherlock knocked on John’s door, waited a minute and knocked again. When he didn’t answer after the third time he decided to pick the lock. It was alarmingly easy. He walked in the room and saw everything. John had been wakened early in the morning, the bed sheets were still tangled were he had lain. He opened the door, expecting someone he knew, most likely Sherlock himself, but was knocked out. There weren’t any signs of a struggle, but Sherlock saw John had been forced unconscious. It wasn’t from a blow however, so it must have been from a drug. Moriarty was definitely behind this and a sensation went down Sherlock’s back. Fear he thought. But not for himself. It was strange and Sherlock didn’t like it. He scowled at the small indent on the rug where John’s head had fallen.


	2. Sherlocks pet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moriarty plays with Sherlocks pet, AKA John

John’s arms hurt. He felt the muscles stretch as he tried to relieve the pain. His hands were bound high above his head, tied to a hook and his feet were barely on the ground. If he was only a centimetre taller he could have slipped the rope over the hook and walked out on his own, but he was not. He looked around his surroundings. He was in a boat house and a shiver went through him as a draft swept through the building. He was still wearing what he was when he was kidnaped, which was only his pants and they were slightly wet from perspiration and the general dampness of the air. They clung to his hips and arse in an uncomfortably tight way.  
“I see my guest is awake finally.” A voice said behind him. John tried to turn around to see who it was, but he already knew.  
“Moriarty. Let me out of this.” His voice seemed to roar with false confidence. Moriarty giggled and pranced around so John could see him.  
“What fun would that be?” His eyes sparkled with anticipation.  
“What do you want?” John asked narrowing his eyes to slits.  
“Oh you, always one to get to the point.” He huffed. “I don’t want much. I only want to break you and Sherlock. Maybe kill you, but I will be satisfied with breaking you for now.” He stepped closer to John and he automatically tried stepping back but the rope wasn’t long enough to let him. Moriarty grinned at him.  
“You can’t move away from me John.” The way he let Johns name slip from his mouth made his toes curl. They stared at each other in silence for a moment before Moriarty took another step closer. He was like a lion circling his fallen prey. John tried again unsuccessfully to take a step back. Moriarty got closer and closer to John until soon their breath mingled. John almost stopped breathing.  
“What are you going to do to me?” he asked quietly. Moriarty put a finger on John’s shoulder and traced his scar. He smiled again as he caressed the skin. John recoiled from the touch, but couldn’t move far enough away.  
“I already told you. I will break you.” His smile widened showing his white teeth. John’s muscles stiffened after Moriarty’s fingers skirted down his chest. He placed his hand on John’s hip and leaned in close.  
“I will break you. I won’t even need to try to break Sherlock after I am done with you. What will be left of you will destroy him enough. He will become weak with feelings. Easy to kill.” Moriarty whispered into John’s ear. John closed his eyes as Moriarty’s hand travelled back up his torso.  
“Sherlock will become so angry after I am done with you. He will become blind with anger.” He flicked John’s left nipple sending signals of both pleasure and pain to his brain.  
“Maybe he will interrupt us. I hope so, I do love an audience.” He said as he put his other hand on John’s cheek. He leaned closer to John pressing their lips together. John’s eyes widened and he tried to thrash his head but Moriarty held it in place. He felt bile rise from his stomach but kept it down.  
“Sherlock will not be pleased when I tell him I kissed you before he did.” Moriarty said in a light hearted tone when he broke away. John’s eyes were animated with fury, but he knew if he said anything it would only make the situation worse. Moriarty continued to touch John’s chest, stroking little areas here and there sending chills through John’s body.  
“That sounds like a wonderful idea. I think I will speed up his progress a bit.” He said and backed away suddenly. He disappeared, presumably to get Sherlock to walk into a trap. Adrenaline was coursing through John’s veins, causing him to tremble. His hands were tingling and he was losing feeling in the tips of his fingers. He tried to stand up as far as he could to slip the rope over the hook, but like before, it didn’t work. Eventually he settled down and waited. He stood there for about a half hour before Moriarty came back.  
“He should be here any minute now.” He said as he waltzed up to John. He brought up a rag to his mouth and John whipped his head back and forth, trying to keep it away, but soon fell into a black void.  
Sherlock had checked every place he could think of when he felt his phone vibrate. He hoped it was John, but knew it wouldn’t be. Instead it was a text from an unknown number.  
Your pet is cute, I may have to play with him for a while- JM It gave no clue to where they were, but it confirmed that Moriarty had John. Ten minutes later he got another text.  
He tastes good. If you don’t rescue your damsel soon, I may have to eat him up –JM It was complete nonsense and meant absolutely nothing to Sherlock. He wondered about the messages. He couldn’t figure out what they meant and he was certain Moriarty didn’t mean them literally. Fifteen minutes later and he got another message.  
Your damsel needs you. Talk to the dragon at the end of the trail. He will take you to the castle- JM Sherlock hated it when he had to be directed like a puppet. He knew he was walking into a trap but he needed to find John. He was getting more worried about him with every minute that passed. He saw a man facing away from him at the end of the street he was on that was wearing a peculiar outfit. His shirt was black with wings decaled on the back of it and he had a spiked mohawk. This had to be the dragon Moriarty was talking about. Sherlock approached him with caution. He snuck up behind him and held a small knife to his throat.  
“If you don’t tell me where he is right now I will slice your throat open so wide you will be able to see your toes through the hole.” He whispered into the man’s ear. He stiffened as he evaluated his situation.  
“Docks. Third boathouse to the left.” He said stiffly. Sherlock melted into the shadows and headed towards the docks. He reached the corresponding boathouse and cautiously opened the door. John was strung up at the back of the small building like a hog being butchered. His hands were tied above him and his head fell limply between his shoulders. Sherlock started to rush towards him when he was tackled. The man with the spiked hair had shoved him to the ground and was pressing a cloth to his mouth. Sherlock tried to shove him off, but the darkness was crawling fast around his eyes. The last thing he saw was Moriarty’s grin high above his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> were just getting warmed up my dears~

**Author's Note:**

> Please r&r. this is my first fanfic that has been published, so every type of review is welcomed


End file.
